Page 20 of Blitz

It’s been two and a half years. Not once have I ever drunk dialed him. I’ve wanted to a thousand times. But I’ve never let myself do it. Until now. Until that kiss.

Fuck, that kiss.

I don’t know what I want from him. I don’t think that he necessarily knows what he wants from me, either. I want to feel like I used to when I was with him. He says he hates me, he says I ruined his life. And then he kisses me. When I get so drunk I can barely stand, he comes to my rescue. He sleeps beside me and makes sure I don’t asphyxiate in the middle of the night.

But he doesn’t like me. He can’t stand the sight of me.

None of my roommates are up when I get home. I trudge up the stairs to my room and collapse onto my bed. Tucker’s sweatshirt surrounds me in his scent. I never want to take it off.

How do I prove to him that I’ve changed? I’m not the same sad, scared little girl I used to be. I’ve grown up. I’ve grown into myself. I know who I am now, what I can handle. And we’re both here. We’re finally in the same place again. There’s no reason we can’t make it work this time around.

A part of me has always loved him. Even when I dated other guys, even when I was happy with someone else, a piece of me has always missed him. He’s the one who got away—the one I set free—only to inadvertently shackle him to a lifetime of misery.

But if he still loves me, why can’t we make this work? Why can’t we make a go of it?

Tucker and I were good together. We balance each other out. He’s the yin to my yang, the peanut butter to my jelly. He’s my other half.

As much as I’ve changed in the last two and a half years, maybe he’s changed, too. He might not be the same person I remember. The same man I fell in love with all those years ago.

Micah says he hasn’t talked to him. I don’t like that he lost his best friend in the breakup. That’s just shitty. My brother should have stayed by his side, worked through their issues to salvage their decade-long friendship.

I should have done more. I should have pushed Micah to reach out to him. I should have—

Rolling over, I punch the pillow and readjust. The thick fabric of the sweatshirt is like a cocoon of warmth.

First, we have to get on speaking terms again. He has to be able to tolerate the sight of me before we become anything more. We can start with friends. I can be his friend again. I want to be his friend again.

His friend who jerks him off whenever he wants? Yeah, I’m interested in that position, too. Pretty much any position he can think of, I’m willing to try.

I can’t believe that he’s never hooked up with anyone. He’s so fucking gorgeous, it hurts to look at him. But he’s not the type of guy to lie about something like that. He’s not the type of guy to lie, period.

I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. So I roll over and curl up under my blankets. Maybe a nap will bring me clarity. Maybe a nap will make the last twelve hours all a bad dream.

Chapter nine

Tucker

“Are we going to talk about it?”

“About what?”

Barrett sets down the weights in his hand and looks at me. “You had a girl in your room.”

“It’s only Mason.”

“Yeah, and she stayed the night.”

“Nothing happened. She was drunk.”

He hums. “Yeah, okay.”

“I can’t go there with her.”

“So the girl you’ve been in love with forever is in your bed and you just—you don’t fuck her?”

“First of all, she couldn’t consent. I’m not about to—”

He rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”